


Motherly

by UntouchedElegance



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Hera loves her children, Maternal Instinct, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23254534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntouchedElegance/pseuds/UntouchedElegance
Summary: Collection of one-shots featuring some of the mothers of Olympus. Some will be sweet and some will be sad. But all of them include a mother's love.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Mother of War

Hera stared at her son as he tossed and turned, his face etched in pain. Golden ichor seeped from a deep wound in his side. The Queen of the Gods had always known Ares to be reckless, but charging into a Hydra’s den proved to her just how far that recklessness will go. There was nothing she could do as she watched the servants of Mount Olympus do their best to tend to his wounds until Apollo could get there. 

Her heart ached as a cloth with a healing solvent was applied to the open cut and Ares hissed and moaned in pain. He was the God of War, armies trembled before him. He took pleasure in the blood he spilled and the glory of battle, but first and foremost, he was Hera’s son. For it was Hera that picked him up off the ground when he had fallen down the steps as a boy, Hera who tended to the small cut on his leg, she who kissed his tears away, gently humming to him to give him comfort. She had only wished there was some sort of comfort to give to her son now. 

Ares let out another groan as pressure was applied to his gushing injury and Hera could take no more. She made to turn away to see where Apollo was but was stopped when she felt a hand in hers.

“Mother…,” she heard her son whisper. She turned back and saw that he was looking at her with his sky-blue eyes that were identical to Zeus’. Her son, her sweet baby boy, he needed her after all. Wiping one of her eyes to rid it of a teardrop forming with her free hand, she used the other one to squeeze her son’s. His hands were massive compared to hers, but she didn’t care. 

Right now, he wasn’t the fearsome war god, he was her son. Although he seemed to be in a daze and would not recall it later when he was aware of his surroundings, she was still grateful to be there for him, as she always will. 


	2. Mother of Spring

Demeter had not planned on becoming a mother. She had much to do and very little time to do so. It seemed that every village she encountered needed her help with their crops, and she felt that her work was never done. 

While at her temple one morning, she was visited by Zeus. She did not want to see him, but with him being King of the Gods, it was very hard to deny him. So, she welcomed him into the temple. Her servants had brought out only the finest ambrosia, clearly only since it was Zeus who was visiting.

He had overstayed his welcome when it started to get dark out. Demeter had made up an excuse that she needed to speak to her nymphs who frolicking in the fields nearby. She just wanted to leave. He had done nothing but ask her nonsensical questions all day, pretending to be interested in what she did. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t. She stood at the entranceway with him. Again, the nymphs, she must speak with them.

He reached out and cupped her face in his hands. She looked into his eyes. She could not tear herself away. Like the plants that she helped grow, she was rooted to the spot.

“Dear Demeter, let us go back in the temple,” said Zeus. “The night is still young, just let me stay a while longer. That is, I command you to allow me to stay.”

Demeter did nothing. She could do nothing. The next moment she saw blackness. When she came to, she was in her chambers, bare and sore. Very confused, she tried to remember what had happened but simply could not. She could put the pieces together, though. Zeus had defiled her, used her, robbed her of her virginity. She could feel nothing right now but rage. She had known that he tended to lay with mortals, but why her? Surely, her dear sister, Hera, would be furious to know what happened, most likely lead to be believe it was consensual by her husband. Who would believe her?

These thoughts turned her rage into sadness. Demeter put her head in her hands and sobbed. The plants and flowers around her temple wilted with her.

A few months after the incident, Demeter found that she was pregnant. It had been nagging her in the back of her head that it could happen, yet she still couldn’t believe it. The nymphs were over the moon, though. They constantly asked her if she thought she was having a boy or a girl, how she was feeling, or if she thought of any names yet. No, no, and no were always the answers. 

Demeter had wished that she could be as excited as they were, but she was frightened for both herself and her child. Zeus had found out about the pregnancy, and the harvest goddess did not know whether or not he had said anything about it to the other gods. She hoped he didn’t, not yet at least. Eventually word would get out that the child had come from her and Zeus. But, until then, she wanted to live her peaceful life. Well, as peaceful as it could be when you were a very busy goddess who was pregnant.

As the months went by, it was harder and harder for Demeter to focus on her work. At times, she felt like she had to take a rest. When she did, she could feel the god or goddess in her belly moving around. She would place a hand on her stomach and softly hum a tune she had once heard Apollo play on his lyre. That seemed to do that trick, as the child would calm down after she was finished. It was times like these that Demeter felt close to her baby. She had come to look forward to meeting them and was determined to be a good mother. 

A short time later, that time came. Demeter delivered her beautiful baby girl on a bright sunny day, one of the brightest she had ever seen. As her daughter was placed in her arms, Demeter immediately burst out crying. The bond between mother and daughter was solidified instantly. She was only alive for a few minutes and the little goddess already had tiny curls of auburn hair growing. Demeter smiled when she saw this, kissing the little curls. Her daughter gave a cry of protest, but Demeter just nuzzled her even more. She already held so much love for her. 

“Lady Demeter,” said one of the nymphs. “She is gorgeous. What will you name her?”

Demeter gazed upon her daughter, her sweet, innocent daughter. “Kore. Her name is Kore.” 

Years went by and Kore grew each day. She was a very shy child, never really talking to anyone on the rare occasion that she and her mother went to Olympus. Everyone fawned over her and had accepted the fact that she was made from, what they believed, was a tryst Demeter had with Zeus. The crop goddess did not care about that, as long as she had her child. Kore had taking a liking to Artemis and Athena specifically, and Demeter hoped that Kore would remain a virgin goddess like they were. She considered that to be very admirable. Zeus had not accepted that she be called Kore, instead insisting that her name be Persephone. Now, everyone either called her Kore or Persephone. Demeter hated the name but could not go against Zeus. 

The nymphs were tasked with watching Kore when Demeter could not. This was something they did not take likely, and they would continue to guard Kore for most of their lives. Demeter could remember that one day when she was helping the flowers in a meadow bloom, the nymphs came running to her with Kore who was crying. Demeter instantly panicked and frantically asked what had happened. The nymphs had said she tripped, and they could not console her, for she wanted Demeter. 

Demeter took her Kore and held her close, spotting a cut on her leg that she kissed to try to soothe her. She hummed to her the lullaby that she had sung to her when she was pregnant. Kore was still able to be calmed in this way, cuddling close to her mother.

“There, there, my little water lily,” Demeter said to Kore. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Now, would you like to help me with the flowers? You are getting very good at making them grow.” This made the girl smile. Wiping away a stray tear, she nodded, and they both got to work. 

Time was good to Kore. She ended up growing up to be a very beautiful goddess. When the sun shone on her waist length auburn hair, little traces of blonde could be seen, the rays making them appear golden, almost translucent, as it blew in the wind. Her eyes were a spring green. Demeter could see that her eyes were the one thing her daughter had inherited from her. Yes, Kore was a simply beautiful goddess, no one could deny that. Everything that she did held an air of grace. Even as Demeter had watched her look over a patch of Earth that had a hard time coming to bloom, she could see that there was something about Kore that drew someone towards her. The girl was also very kind to anyone she met, always willing to help to the best of her ability. She was simply darling. Demeter could not have asked for a more perfect child. 

Kore’s beauty presented a problem to Demeter. The girl was bound to attract the attention of unwanted suitors. Kore was pretty enough to have half the gods chasing after her. Demeter had never allowed her to go to Olympus by herself. In fact, the only male Kore saw regularly was Hermes and he was harmless. Demeter trusted only him. Athena and Artemis visited frequently and would keep her daughter company. Her hopes that Kore would become an eternal maiden herself grew each time they came. It was true that she sheltered the girl to no end. Could she be blamed? After what Zeus had done, Demeter trusted only a few individuals. 

Her musings were interrupted by a whimsical sound on the wind. Kore was laughing. Demeter looked out of the window of their cottage and smiled. It had seemed that Hermes had come to deliver a message and ended up crashing in a river. Kore must have found this funny because she had no doubled over in laughter, the sound coming out as music to Demeter’s ears. 

She would protect her precious Kore. She would not lose her. 

Demeter could remember the dreaded day that her nymphs came running to her frantically. She was gone. Kore was gone. There was not a trace of her on earth, her energy was undetectable. Demeter remembered the turmoil that came over her. Her beautiful daughter had disappeared. Where was she? Where was her Kore? She searched everywhere, leaving no stone unturned. Kore would not just run off. She must have been taken. She had to have been. All the vegetation started dying, there was a chill in the air for quite some time. 

She had gone to Helios to ask if he had seen what happened, and she could not believe what he had said. Kidnapped. Her precious rose was kidnapped by Hades. There was no telling what unspeakable horrors her child was going through at the moment. Demeter’s hand had clenched at her chest as she thought about her daughter and how she could not help her. Her baby was in the Underworld where it was dark and cold. What kind of a mother was she if she could not protect her child? 

She had gone to Zeus, but he had said that there was nothing he could do. She started screaming right there in his court. If she had to suffer, then everyone else would suffer with her. Nothing would grow and the world would become cold, like she was, without her Kore. 

How happy she was when her daughter was returned to her. She embraced her with all the love a mother could give, not wanting to ever let go of her again. She could see that Kore was happy to see her, too. All was well again. The crops could grow, and everyone would be happy as things would return to normal for the rest of eternity. 

Or so she thought. It was brought up that Kore had eaten six seeds when she was with that monster. This meant for six months out of the year, she would be with her mother while the other six she would be forced to return to the Underworld. Of course, she had protested, but there was nothing anyone could do. The agreement was made. It was not Kore that she blamed, for Hades must have tricked her. 

She found she was wrong about that too. She had found Kore crying one day. She must have been upset about the agreement as well. No doubt she was crying tears of sadness at having to be separated from her mother in six months’ time. 

“Come now, Kore. I am just as upset about it as you, but we can make the most of our time together.” Demeter tried to soothe her daughter by running her hand through her hair. “I swear to you I will not rest until I find a way to get you out of this agreement.”

Kore raised her head from her hands. “Oh, mother,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, mother. I miss him. I miss Hades.” She looked into Demeter’s eyes. “I love him, mother.” 

“Mother?” Demeter snapped out of her daydreams when she heard her daughter call her. She saw Kore, no, Persephone looking at her with a concerned look on her face. 

“I am fine, dear. Just doing a bit of reminiscing is all,” Demeter told her daughter. It had been years since the pomegranate agreement. They had fallen into a cycle of Persephone coming and going. Demeter never looked forward to her daughter leaving and had always thought back to the night with Zeus all the way up to this moment every time Persephone had to leave, which was almost time for her to do. 

“I’m leaving soon, mother. Would you like to walk to the river together?” Persephone asked her mother, tilting her head. Demeter agreed and together they walked, arm in arm, mother and daughter, queen of the Underworld and queen of the crops, toward the river that ran as deep as their bond. 


	3. Mother of Love

Aphrodite was in a sound sleep when her son came crashing into the room. Getting out of bed and rushing over to him, she noticed a few things. The first was that he was clutching his chest and the second was that he was crying. She bent down and cupped his face. 

“Eros, my son,” she soothed. “What has happened?” 

At that point Eros sat up, his wings folding behind him. He looked into his mother’s eyes and Aphrodite could see the emotion in them. Her son was hurting. 

“Mother,” he rasped. “Mother, I fell in love with Psyche. I know you told me to do your bidding for you, but I just couldn’t. I whisked her away, let her live in a temple that I would frequent. But she didn’t see me, mother. I swear I did not allow her to look at me. She had no idea who I was. I trusted her and I thought she trusted me. But one night I woke up and found her standing over my bed with a knife and a lantern. She saw me. She saw me and she was going to kill me.” His voice broke with the last sentence, the tears streaming down his perfect cheeks. 

Aphrodite had listened to him without saying a word. He disobeyed her, but that was pushed far from her mind when she heard him say that a mortal was going to kill her son. A mortal. A mortal who was worshipped for her beauty instead of her. A mortal who would get what was coming to her.

Aphrodite wrapped her arms around her son. “I feel something, mother. My chest hurts, I think my heart is broken.” Aphrodite was hurt by his words. Her son was supposed to help others with love, not be affected by it like this. “And I’m sorry, mother. I’m so, so sorry.”

“My dear, dear, Eros,” Aphrodite began. “I care not that you disobeyed me. I care that you were almost seriously hurt. I feel your pain, my son. The heartbreak you are feeling aches in my chest as well as yours. For my heart breaks for you.” She brushed back a few of his curls and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, mother will fix everything. I’ll call one of my servants and have them escort you to a spare room.” 

Eros looked up at his mother, his eyes conveying desperation and sorrow. The servant came and he was on his way out but looked back before he did so. “Mother, what will you do?”

Aphrodite smiled gently. “Do not worry about it tonight, Eros. Please get your rest, your loving mother will take care of it.” He did as she asked, dragging his feet as he went. When he was gone, Aphrodite kept her smile, but it was not gentle. The smile that adorned her face was now wicked and predatory. She walked out onto her balcony, her long night dress flowing in the wind. Her hands gripped the railing so tight that her knuckles turned white. Her hair was blowing everywhere, wild and messy. She let out a laugh and tilted her head back. That mortal was in for a real treat.

“Oh, yes. Mother will take care of everything.”


End file.
